I have continued to take my supplements, I am guessing I am about nine or ten weeks in now. I have not changed the frequency of which I take them or the amount, I have added a few additions but these are mostly due to the dreaded weight gain. I have over the past few years tried a variety of different diets. Atkins, L.A skinny, Cambridge, Calorie controlled, Carol Vordermon’s Detox and Slimming World to name a few. Some have given me quick results some have given me slower more achievable changes. None have given me my pre-perimenopausal body back. I catapulted into my forties with the optimism of a newly appointed flight attendant, anything you’d like Miss, more wine, pillow not too hard, food to your liking? I was loving it. I was as enthusiastic to turn forty as I had been turning twenty one, world my oyster, life’s for living, things to do, places to see, people to meet. And I was thin. Remember when Victoria Beckham was celebrated for writing that letter to her younger self, ( you know the one she wrote when she was still practically in her mother’s womb?)
Well if I could write one to my forty year old self as I propel towards my fiftieth birthday I know what I would I say. Stay forty. Why forty? Because that was when I changed, I was so confident, strong, self-assured, energetic, happy. And deluded. I was mis-informed, someone needs to let us ladies hurtling towards their fortieth in on the craic, this is when this shit gets real. I was under the impression that once you reach your fortieth birthday a zen like figure comes out from the clouds, touches your forehead and say’s something like, ” well done, you’ve got through the worst, no more broken hearts for you, worrying about how you look will be a thing of the past, you will ooze confidence and yes, yes, you can eat bread then go to the nightclub.” Then you will be struck by the enlightenment fairy , who will grant you those three wishes that you wrote on the back of a fag packet in at an all -nighter in Blackpool ; right after necking on with a D.J who you’d hoped you’d marry one day and live in Ibiza. Something like that.
It’s not at all like that, well not for me. The first two years were spent getting over the fact that I had partied through my thirties; you know when you’ve had a big session and only a two day hangover will see you through too until suicide Tuesday kicks in. Well like that, only this lasted two years. Then just as you acclimatise yourself to the ‘ New you’. You know; the usual stuff, a meal out is a party on your taste buds, dancing In the car is this year’s new festival, choosing curtains not cocktails. That type of thing. Then It hits you. Peri-menopause. You’re tired, grumpy, irrational and emotional. At first I thought it was my mind and body having the world’s biggest come down. It wasn’t.
I know I have previously shared my thoughts and feelings on how Lady M has affected my mind, relationship and sex drive. I haven’t shared the worst. As I hurtled towards my fortieth birthday I said the words to myself and my mirror that we all say on daily basis . God I am getting fat. I wasn’t. Fat? I was nine stone eight pounds. A little un-toned, but at five foot eight; nine stone eight pounds, aged forty is/was pretty good going. How I wish that was the case now. I am now eleven stone & twelve pounds. Two stone heavier in eight years. But here’s the thing I don’t eat any more than I did then, if anything I eat more healthier, I never did any exercise then, unless you count raving and cleaning; now I do a little, although not as much as I should, and I drink less. What the hell is it? Why has my metabolism taken early retirement? Isn’t it enough that Lady M slowly stripped me of my self-confidence, assertiveness, sex drive and carefree attitude, s now she has taken away my ability to burn off fat……..
I don’t know about you but my Lady M is, in my mind a tall haughty women aged about 65, she’s as thin as a reed and doesn’t care what she says because what she has to say is, well it is perfect at all times, she’s very likeable (to others) and carries herself well. I hate her! or do i? I have decided that I am going to approach this next episode the same way I did with her in my battle with my mental health issues, this needs planning, precision and patience. Luckily for me, I am becoming a lot more patient as I grow older. I used to be a ‘do it now, and do it fast.’ I am a lot more pragmatic these days so I will not revert to type. Anyway judging from past experiences quick fixes don’t work…. I know that as I recently tried a juice diet. Losing five pounds in a week then gaining ten back as I celebrated losing the five. Seriously. Will I ever learn ? The answer to this, yes; fingers crossed and mouth shut.
The only diet that gave me enduring results previously was Slimming World. Its fab. It works. You do shift those pounds and eat well. If, and here is the thing, if you are not in a relentless battle with your hormones. Who by the way decided we had to have hormones??? They are accountable for your mind, body and; well body. And they can fight. Jesus they are to our form what Muhammed Ali was to the ring. They float around you like a butterfly and bloody well sting like a bee. Literally…I have blown up two stones from my bee sting. So fuck this. I am going into this fight like George Forman, I might not win but hey I’ll lose a few pounds during my tussle. Just like George Forman. Which co-incidentally is my lean, mean , healthy grilling machine.
I am going for the ‘ low carb’ approach. Now I hear you sigh and shout ‘what no potatoes!’ This is exactly what I said. I love my carbs, bread is my lover, potatoes my comfort blanket. Jesus I once took a baguette to a David Guetta gig. But the love affair is over. (David, if you’re reading this, I wouldn’t say no to a bit of your baguette). However I need to rise up. Without the yeast. In my quest for thinness I researched all things for fat, menopausal women, much like myself and the ‘low carb, high fat’ approach came up trumps. And to be fair I think the lack of carbs might control my trumps. If you pardon the pump. I am giving this a go. Well I have given it a go. Six weeks in and things are starting to work . I am 7llbs down. And counting, I went out for Sunday lunch today and passed on the roast potatoes, said no to the mash, swerved all of the sweet things. So I am rising on up …. or down if you believe the scales.